Bedtime Stories
by Sehanine
Summary: Draco never dreamed that the scary stories he delighted in as a child could become reality. Once they had, he truly regretted that he never listened to the ending. (Warning for implied incestuous feelings)


Written for the Final Round #1 of the QLFC.

Position: Keeper

Team: Pride of Portree

Prompt: A relationship between Bellatrix (team character) and Draco (my own choice).

* * *

When Draco was little, his favourite bedtime story was The Tale of the Three Sisters. There were no book or pictures to look at as he listened to his mother's silky voice flowing over the words she knew so well. There were only the images he created in his mind, bright and colourful for the good sister, dark and forbidding for the two naughty sisters. Still, Draco always thought his own imagination was far better at painting pictures than the artists who illustrated his other bedtime stories.

Draco's mother would always begin by telling him of the youngest sister. She was the apple of her father's eye and seemingly perfect in every way. Well, she was until she eloped with a filthy Mudblood, of course. That part of the story wasn't particularly interesting to a young child, but Draco waited patiently for the rest.

The middle part of the story was always about the eldest sister. This was Draco's favourite part. His mother described her so vividly it was almost like she was standing in the room. Dark hair, heavily-lidded eyes, tall and slender. According to his mother she was beauty personified. Draco didn't agree, since he considered all girls to be disgusting, but he took his mother's word for it.

This incredibly beautiful woman was devious, intelligent and ambitious. In short, she was the best kind of Slytherin. Draco wasn't really sure what a Slytherin was, only that he was supposed to be one too when he was old enough to go to school, so he assumed it was a good thing.

The woman was also, unfortunately, crazy. She ate small children for breakfast and kicked puppies for fun, cackling all the while. Under the command of her master, she hunted down Muggles and Mudbloods and used spells no-one else knew to make them suffer. She also hunted down naughty little boys and made them pay for their misdeeds. Draco would always shudder in a strange combination of fear and delight at that particular part of the story.

Draco supposed the third sister might have been interesting too, had he ever managed to listen to the end of the story. There was probably some kind of meaning to the whole thing, but as his attention always wandered to the scary, crazy lady, he had no idea what it was supposed to be.

Draco first met his Aunt Bella when he was fifteen. He returned home for the Easter holidays to find a beautiful, dark-haired woman with heavily-lidded eyes in the dining room. When his father made the introductions, he stammered out a greeting, his mind forced back to the stories that had frightened him in childhood. Bellatrix laughed, a sound that had possibly been beautiful once, but now it simply seemed insane.

Draco knew that Bellatrix had broken out of Azkaban, along with many other extended family members; however, he had not expected to find her in his home, much less looking as though she had stepped straight out of his vivid imagination.

"Oh dear, my sister has been telling some interesting tales, hasn't she?" Bellatrix said in a falsely sweet voice. Draco frowned for a moment before remembering his father's lectures on guarding his mind around certain people. Admittedly, Lucius had been talking about Dumbledore, but Draco quickly decided that the lesson could be applied in this situation just as well.

As Draco tried in vain to clear his mind, Bellatrix tutted and shook her head.

"You'll have to do better than that, nephew, if you want to keep me out," Bellatrix teased, forcing her way further into his thoughts. Draco was frozen with horror as she delved into his memories, searching for anything connected to herself. Draco was suddenly glad that his mother had always spoken highly of her elder sister, when not speaking in childish metaphors. He quickly suppressed that relief for fear Bellatrix would notice it.

When she was done sifting through Draco's memories, Bellatrix dismissed her nephew. With a jerky bow that bordered on impolite, he exited the room.

Once Draco's father was arrested, his life began to fall further into Aunt Bella's clutches. His mother was inconsolable at the separation from her husband, temporary though it may be, and with Draco's first Death Eater mission issued Bellatrix had clearly appointed herself his mentor.

The more time he spent with Bellatrix, the more Draco realised that the childhood story was right. She was completely insane, and Azkaban had clearly only made it worse. Admittedly, he hadn't noticed her kicking puppies yet, but he was fairly convinced that it was only a matter of time.

Thoughts like these only served to further encourage Draco to master Occlumency. His mother had suggested that it would be a good idea anyway, and, while Draco agreed, his fear of Dumbledore was not motivation enough to become a master Occlumens. His fear of his aunt, however, was increasing daily, and he wished to give her no new ammunition to use against him.

Bellatrix clearly delighted in tormenting her nephew. She would pull tidbits of embarrassing information directly from his mind without his even noticing and then proceed to giggle childishly over each and every one, tormenting Draco until he was filled with humiliation.

"Less than a minute, that first time with Pansy?" Bellatrix asked sweetly over breakfast, causing Draco to choke on his food.

"A ferret!" Bellatrix shrieked, causing Draco to nearly fall from his broom while practising seeker maneuvers in the garden.

After a few weeks of Draco trying to avoid his aunt's barb-filled comments and failing utterly in his attempts at Occlumency, Bellatrix began to get steadily creepier. Draco hadn't thought that was possible. He was wrong.

"Do you need me to wash your hair for you?" Draco heard a shrill voice calling up the stairs while he was in the bath, the pleasant memory of his girlfriend doing exactly that floating in front of his eyes. It was at this point that Draco's Occlumency dramatically improved. Within a month he could keep his mental shields in place constantly.

When her mind games stopped working, Bellatrix moved on to touching. She would stroke Draco's hair as she walked behind his chair, or rest her arm a little too close to his during meals. Once Draco woke up to find Bellatrix sitting at the end of his bed, one hand placed lightly on top of his foot.

Draco had heard rumours about the customs of the Black family when it came to romance and marriage and was worried by these implications combined with his aunt's actions. It soon became a habit for Draco to remain awake as long as possible, sleeping only lightly and fitfully when it was absolutely necessary.

Even once he was back at Hogwarts, Draco was unable to rid himself of the creepy feeling that his aunt was watching him. He would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, blankets tangled around his legs where he had thrashed around in the midst of a nightmare, dark eyes haunting him from the shadowy corners of the room.

"Ah… Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see," Professor Snape said as Draco maintained his shields against the gentle probing. Teaching is one word for it I suppose, Draco thought to himself. I certainly learnt a lot, that's for sure.

"What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?" Snape continued, doubling his efforts to break through Draco's mental barriers.

"I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in," Draco lied. He did not care what his professor saw in his mind, unless…

Why else would he be trying to get me to tell him anything? Draco wondered to himself. The Dark Lord already knows of my mission, obviously, so he can't be planning to tell him. And he knows perfectly well that if he was allowed to know then the Dark Lord would tell him. He must be asking because of her!

Terrified, Draco ended the conversation with his professor as soon as he could without giving himself away and fled back to the dungeons. A few acquaintances asked if he was alright, but he ignored them, unable to trust that they were sincere in their concern. He slammed the door to his dormitory behind him and jumped into his bed, pulling the curtains closed around him. He huddled under his blankets, afraid of what might happen if he emerged.

Perhaps, Draco thought to himself. It would be better if I failed this mission. She cannot get me if the Dark Lord kills me first.


End file.
